The Sound Of White
by VampNauler666
Summary: For Martha Jones, death has been waiting, but she's been waiting for someone else. Song Fic. One Shot.


Martha Jones was old now

Martha Jones was old now. Her grey hair hung in wisps which danced around her face in the wind. Her weathered face was a mask of calm; under her skin she was anxious and worried. Time was running out and she was waiting for him.

The Doctor didn't always get the dates right.

_Like a freeze-dried rose, you will never be,  
what you were, what you were to me in memory._

Martha Jones loved the Doctor, but not anymore. She had married, she had mothered and she was widowed. Her life had been beautiful, everything she had ever wanted she achieved.

It came to her a couple of days ago.

Her final wish.

_But if I listen to the dark,  
you'll embrace me like a star,  
envelop me, envelop me..._

Martha Jones was gazing. The stars in the sky shone down on her, shedding light on memories of long ago. Looking at the stars was like looking into a journal written by someone else. Her life up there was long gone.

But she still wanted that one last adventure.

_If things get real for me down here,  
promise to take me to before you went away -  
if only for a day._

Martha Jones, although she never told anyone, would have killed for one more trip. During her life on earth she had become a doctor, married a doctor and mothered two children, one of which was a doctor.

But not one of those doctors where who she was waiting for.

_If things get real for me down here,  
promise to take me back to the tune  
we played before you went away.  
_

Martha Jones was dieing. Her death had been coming for years, creeping closer since they found the tumour growing. It was three weeks after her 76th birthday when she found out, and now, two weeks before her 90th she knew the end was close.

There was one last goodbye too make.

_And if I listen to, the sound of white,  
sometimes I hear your smile, and breathe your light.  
Yeah if I listen to, the sound of white ..  
You're my mystery. One mystery. My mystery. One mystery._

Martha Jones had made the call two hours ago. For her it had been half a decade since she last saw the Doctor. But for him it could have been months. For all Martha knew she could come face to face with a completely different man.

The Doctor, himself, had always been a mystery to her.

_My silence solidifies,  
until that hollow void erases you,  
erases you so I can't feel at all._

Martha Jones was growing weary. The night was late and there was nothing but silence to keep her company. There had been times in her life where she had felt alone, and had wanted her doctor.

There were also times when she had needed the Doctor.

_  
But if I never feel again, at least that nothingness  
will end the painful dream, of you and me..._

Martha Jones wasn't in pain. The doctors had told her that her death would be painless, and when the end came it wouldn't be drag on. They didn't tell her she would know and they didn't tell her she would be afraid.

This fear would go when the Doctor came.

_  
If things get real for me down here, promise to take me to  
before you went away, if only for a day.  
If things get real for me down here, promise to take me back to  
the tune we played before you went away._

Martha Jones could feel the time ticking away. He couldn't be far away. Lord of time, but it seemed he was going to be too late. What good was a time machine if you arrived late?

The Doctor wasn't late, he always got there.__

And if I listen to, the sound of white  
sometimes I hear your smile, and breathe your light.  
Yeah if I listen to, the sound of white  
sometimes I hear your smile, and breathe your light.  
And if I listen to, the sound of white.

Martha Jones knew that sound. The wind picked up and she grew colder. She stood shivering, with her hearth swelling in her chest, waiting for that blue box to open.

The Doctor had arrived.

__

I knelt before some strangers face,  
I'd never have the courage or belief to trust this place,  
But I dropped my head, 'cos it felt like lead,  
And I'm sure I felt your fingers through my hair...  


"Martha Jones, it's been a while." He smiled at her, and embraced her. This Doctor was the same one she'd left with Donna. Same smile, same suit and she wondered if his hearts still belonged to the mysterious Rose.

Martha knew that she didn't have too tell the Doctor.

_  
And if I listen to, the sound of white sometimes  
I hear your smile, and breathe your light.  
Yeah if I listen to, the sound of white._

Martha Jones and the Doctor sat together, with Martha wrapped in a blanket from the TARDIS. Her head was on his shoulder and her eyes were closed. He still babbled telling her of his adventures and asking out hers.

This was her last chance to ask.

_  
The sound of white,_

"Doctor, can you take me back?"

"Back where?"

_  
The sound of white,_

"To the TARDIS."

"Of course, just for you Martha Jones."

_  
The sound of white._

Martha Jones sat on the driver's seat in the TARDIS. Her eyes were closed, and her body weak. The Doctor's hand was around hers and he had stopped babbling.

Now they were waiting.

Martha Jones was buried a week later, next to her doctor, while the Doctor mourned her.


End file.
